This is a fan translation of Fighters of Danwait (Бойцы Данвейта) by Mikhail Akhmanov, currently only available in Russian and, because of the author's passing in 2019, unlikely to ever be published in English. This is the third book in a six-book series called Arrivals from the Dark (Пришедшие из мрака), which also has a six-book spin-off series called Trevelyan's Mission (Миссия Тревельяна).
I claim no rights to the contents herein.
ASTROID. A Lo'ona Aeo space habitat, made out of an unknown material, capable of absorbing the energy of the central star, Limbo, and other sources, converting it into various industrial forms. Astroids are typically ellipsoid-shaped and reach 40-80 kilometers in length and 20-30 kilometers in width and height. Their bottom section, facing the planet, is filled with a layer of soil and imitates a specific type of landscape: a forest or a tropical jungle, a rolling forest steppe, a mountainous scenery, a coastal area with cliffs or sandy beaches, an island in the ocean, etc. Despite the variety of these structures, there are similarities between them: a necessary body of water (a lake, a closed-circuit stream of water, a coastal sea belt); plenty of greenery (not a precise term, since a part of the vegetation has scarlet, burgundy, golden, blue, and other hues); the presence of highways and footpaths; external ports for spaceships. The landscape represented in an astroid is occasionally extended via the use of holographic images, while the upper portion of the dome imitates the sky with a regulated daily cycle. Approximately a quarter of the territory is devoted to the settlement; gravity varies from 0.2g to 0.3g.
An astroid is inhabited by a so-called "large family group" of the Lo'ona Aeo, the size of which can reach a hundred thousand individuals. The vast majority of these space structures orbit the ancient planets of the Pink Zone: Kullat, Arza, Fayo, etc. It can be assumed that the number of the astroids is at least several tens of thousands, but it is a rough approximation; neither the order of magnitude nor, especially, their precise count are unknown. The Lo'ona Aeo race moved into the astroids relatively recently, between eight and ten millennia ago, abandoning their homeworld of Kullat, the ancient colonies of the Pink Zone and the later settled worlds of the Blue Zone. The reasons for this decision are known: the astroid environment is under complete control, they are perfectly protected from any cataclysms, as well as mobile, which affords them greater safety than the planetary surface. The low gravity and sterile conditions in the astroids promote longevity.
Sources of information: No human or a member of any other race has even been allowed into an astroid. Brief information about them is contained in holographic films, given by the Servs of the diplomatic mission on Luna (the view of the nature and several buildings, the view of Kullat, ringed by astroids, from space).
Xenological Compendium, section Artifacts. United University edition, La Sorbonne, Oxford, Moscow (Earth), Olympus Mons (Mars), 2264
Chapter 12
Family Group
The Lancelot and her crew were once again on Danwait. The trade transport ship, along with Zantoo and her Servs, had left for the Pink Zone, to one of the inner worlds, where some sort of special cargo was being prepared. Valdez was free until the next expedition, which was planned to start in three eight-day periods. His time was split between the beaches of the Silver Ocean, the city streets, the base, and the nearby river. After the cramped quarters of the Lancelot and the enormous dark cargo holds, filled with containers, it was pleasant to walk in a crowd, look into shops and stalls, sit in taverns, even listen to the parrot's yells at Silver's, and watch the Hindu dancers at Pigg's. It was even pleasant to jump into the ocean from a cliff, swim rapidly for a kilometer, turn around, and just lie on his back, undulating on the waves and squinting at Danwait's orange sun. All that could be done by himself or in company, and Valdez preferred the latter. The company was also pleasant: sometimes it was Atigem, Jacob, and two dozen comrades-in-arms, sometimes it was Inga and her friends from the Vrba Convoy, but more often it was just Inga. She and Zantoo were so different! But there was one similarity: both looked at Valdez the exact same way.
Five days later, Inga left, departing for the Llyano with the Convoy, while Valdez planned to go into the jungle beyond the Tang Ridge with Prokhorov and Jacob. However, the hike never happened; Cro took him out of the sledge, mentioned something about official matters, and dragged him to the Planner's tower, into the familiar chamber with the terminal. Montagu Richard and Soslan Bakuriani of the Shire base were already there, constantly reviewing the recording from Dust Devil. When Valdez stepped over the threshold, he saw the Thad's enormous figure, which roared right straight into his face, "Where Lord of Emptiness? Where? Where?!"
He sat at the table and listened to the entire dialog until the end, including the final phrases and threats.
"Lord of Emptiness not know that us already worthy. To call him and explain, need right code, password, correct pulse emission. Lo'ona Aeo say and go free." The Haptor raised his hand, and soldiers ran out of the ornithopter. "Move, Hairy one! Move or lose skin! I enter and take Lo'ona Aeo."
"They really want that Lord," The Admiral spoke. "Is that their faith or something? That Thad looks like a damned fanatic!"
"Planner," Bakuriani called. "Tell me, please, is there data on the Haptor religion? On their mystical views, transcendental world, and so forth? What do you know about that?"
"Nothing, Senior Defender," a resounding voice replied.
"It can't be! They served you too, for many centuries!"
"There is no information because the Haptor race lacks any semblance of religious feelings. They have never invented a god, Senior Defender. No god, no devil, no angels, no demons. They are very rational beings."
The four sitting at the table exchanged glances.
"Well-well!" the Admiral said with a crooked smile. "So the Lords of Emptiness are real after all? What do you think, Planner?"
"Discussing such topics is outside the range of my capabilities."
Valdez finally realized what his senior colleagues were doing; they were conducting something like a confrontation between the Lo'ona Aeo and the Haptors. The former were, naturally, represented by the Planner, while the Thad was the latter, seeking an audience with a Lord of Emptiness, and comparing his demands and threats with the Planner's comments, it was possible to find out something useful or, at the very least, something new.
"Don't you refer to your capabilities, genatsvale [A Georgian honorific.]," Bakuriani noted affectionately. "You're a smart machine… sorry, not even a machine, an artificial lifeform… You have more brains than the entire Patrol, and let's not even talk about the Convoys. So why don't use those brains, my dear, and rifle through your memory. It's not a complex problem!"
"Please restate the problem again," the Planner said.
Lightwater responded to this request with an ironic chuckle.
Richard muttered with dissatisfaction, "A tricky beast! Playing dumb!"
But Soslan Bakuriani, a natural negotiator and diplomat, did not give away his annoyance and started to explain, "You see, katzo ["Worthy man" in Georgian.], there are these beings called Haptors, and, as you yourself said, they don't believe in god. If they had, it would have been simple, my dear: the Lord of Emptiness is their god, and they see our Masters as the priests who have a direct line to the Almighty. We would've listened to this and laughed together, yes? But it turns out that things are different! They don't make the Lord out to be a deity, he's the real deal to them! Here, let's listen one more time!"
Bakuriani restarted the recording, and the Haptor's figure came alive, and his sharp voice echoed under the chamber ceiling.
"Hairy one more foolish than Dromi, even though hard imagine that," the Haptor spoke. "Your not believe that Lord of Emptiness heir to Ancients, your think it just words… But he not words, he exist in galaxy, and Lo'ona Aeo can contact him. He help worthy people, not Dromi, not your Hairy, but ones like Haptor. Understand?"
"You see what he's saying! Lord of Emptiness heir to Ancients… He exist in galaxy… Well, does he exist or not?"
"He does, but only in the views of the Haptors," the Planner informed them after some reflection.
"What about objectively?"
"I do not possess such data, Senior Defender."
Chief Lightwater shrugged.
"You're not going to prevail here, Soslan. We won't get anything out of it. Either it doesn't know about it, or it can't tell us due to a restriction. It's a biomechanism, people! Can't be more stubborn than that…" Clenching his prosthetic fingers into a fist, Cro turned to Valdez. "Sergey, have you discussed this topic with the girl?"
Bakuriani and Richard did not even raise an eyebrow; obviously, they knew which girl he was talking about. Valdez was not surprised by this. Apparently, the Secret Service had more than one hook on Danwait.
"The races that have served the Lo'ona Aeo have been in contact with them for many centuries," he spoke. "Indirectly, of course, through the Servs and the base and fortress AIs, but that only gave the Masters an air of mystery. Secrets breed speculation, then legends… The Haptors have theirs, as do the Dromi… That's what Zantoo said."
"A perfectly plausible explanation," Bakuriani agreed. "What do you think, Planner?"
"The Lo'ona Aeo are better informed regarding this question," the artificial intelligence replied.
"Ask a coyote where the bone is buried, and he will answer that he eats grass." Cro stood up and turned off the recording. "Let's go. We're not going to figure out this problem here."
The faces of all three were showing dissatisfaction. Montagu Richard was frowning, Bakuriani was scratching his head, and Chief Lightwater, as if admitting defeat, tapped out a few measures from Wagner's Götterdämmerung.
"There was something else she said," Valdez spoke.
The Admiral turned to him sharply.
"The Lo'ona Aeo female?"
"Yes. She said that it's best not to disturb the Lords and to avoid audiences with them. If they existed, of course."
"A hint!" Bakuriani proclaimed. "An obvious hint!"
"I don't see anything obvious," Richard grumbled. "It's more of a cause for reflection."
They had started towards the elevator, talking amongst themselves, but then a voice came from under the chamber ceiling.
"Defender Valdez. Please remain."
"You want to have a private conversation with him, my dear?" Bakuriani threw his head back, peering into the ceiling. "This is not allowed, actually. We're more senior in age and rank."
"Private business, Senior Defender. Forgive me. My embarrassment and grief are equal to your resentment."
It was the formula of an apology, and Bakuriani burst into laughter, after listening to it.
"Embarrassment and grief? I didn't know you could get embarrassed and grieve!"
"I can't," the Planner informed him, opened the grav-lift shaft, and pushed Bakuriani, Richard, and Lightwater into it with a strong puff of air. Then he spoke. "Defender Valdez, there is a chair in the next room. Sit in it and wait. Ghiaira and Ptayon will speak with you."
He had no idea that there was another compartment next to the Planner's terminal. But there was one, a tiny room with round milky-white walls that looked like the inside of an egg, whose contents had been removed. There was a chair in the middle; it was narrow and small, meant for a Serv or a Lo'ona Aeo. Valdez barely fit in it.
It looked like he was about to receive a special honor; until now, the Masters had never met with the Defenders and human diplomats, not only personally, but even through communication devices. Either the sight of alien beings was disgusting and frightening to them even as a holographic image, or they completely trusted their Servs and saw no need in personal contacts. But everything flowed, everything changed, as the ancients used to say, and there it was: "Wait! Ghiaira and Ptayon will speak with you…"
Valdez had no idea which of them was talde, trla, or tayos; maybe Zantoo had never told him that. There was a vague thought in his head that her parents' marital union had had another member, but he couldn't remember the name; Baani?.. Boini?.. Something like that, but it wasn't important, since Baani-Boini did not wish to see him.
While Valdez was thinking these amusing thoughts, the glowing milky-white walls of the egg first dimmed, then grew dark, and he suddenly found himself in space among the stars. The view was familiar, but, besides the constellation pattern and the wide band of the Milky Way, he saw a sun, similar to what Earth's orbital satellites saw. This star seemed redder and calmer than the suns of Danwait and Earth; it appeared to be older, so the furious whirlwind of protuberances, magnetic storms, and streams of charged particles had remained in the distant exuberant youth. Now its light was even, gentle, and pleasing to the eye. Valdez felt its tender warmth on his face.
The streams of solar rays washed a planet. The spheroid appeared to be surprisingly enormous and carved out of rhinestone; it was gleaming and glittering so much that Valdez had to squint. Hunching in the narrow chair, he watched the unknown world slowly and majestically floating towards him, its glow lighting up the dark emptiness of space. After a while, the surface of the crystal sphere started to fall apart into a multitude of arcs, gripping some as-yet unseen center. The arcs, or rather elliptical orbits, were not solid, but were more like a necklaces made of sparkling beads, not touching one another, but seemingly connected by strings of soft, slightly flickering light. Their number seemed enormous to Valdez: not hundreds, but more like thousands of oval shells, giant opalescent pearls, circling around an inner world in a strict and unbroken order. He counted over forty orbital rings, lost his count, and started over, but the walls of his chamber were already showing other images.
He was now in one of the rings, made up of orbital settlements. A planet was spinning below him, green, blue, and gold; he only had to look at it closely, and the surface would immediately blow up, showing him smooth outlines of short mountains, a forest or a park with a lace of trails, a seashore or a wide, slowly flowing river. This world, quiet and carefully groomed, was full of tracks, left by artful hands: statues were visible among the trees and the grass, cliffs would suddenly turn into dwellings with carved arches of the entrances and the windows, a gazebo floated over the ocean, identical to the one in Zantoo's pod, fountain sprays were flickering among the flower curtains, a cableway stretched to a mountain peak, probably ancient, but running like clockwork; he saw transparent cars slip along the stretched cable.
"Fayo," the Planner's resounding voice broke the silence. "One of the central worlds of the Pink Zone. We will now get close to the astroid Anat."
A bright pearl filled the sky. It grew and grew, turning into an enormous ellipsoid fifty kilometers in length, maybe more; a space habitat with parks, villas, palaces, and an artificial lake floated over the planet in a chain of other cities like that. Valdez seemed to pierce its shell, his gaze capturing the already familiar, frequently seen landscape in its entirety: crystal towers with pointed spires, gently-sloping tree-covered hills, the dark rocky ridge, and, beyond it, in the distant part of the astroid, was the smooth, glaring body of water. This image flashed past as in instant vision, then the chair was hovering over an arena-square, with colorful figures spinning deep inside it, forming an intricate pattern. There were no dancers here this time, and Valdez was able to confirm that the mysterious area was very similar to the Devil's Circle.
He moved on, or he was dragged along by the images on the walls of the small chamber. He recalled that this road, paved with pink tiles, was called the Seventh Moon Alley and that, at its end, beyond the cloud of colorful fog, reminiscent of the birth of a new galaxy, lay the Light and Darkness Alley. It was covered in tiles of white quartz and black obsidian, while tall candle trees with blue-green leaves, similar to terrestrial cypresses, lined its sides. In places where their rows were broken, flowers gleamed in gentle hues, long lashes of seaweed slid through a small pond, and a house rose like a shell of pink pearl. Valdez's chair was slowly floating through the gallery, past the amber tile with an alien butterfly frozen inside, past the ivory pagoda and the inscribed stones, past the vessel with circling flaming rings, past the feather-woven rug, and the other rarities. The hall with a transparent ceiling and a miniature Castle floating in mid-air opened up before him; he had time to note enfilades of rooms, stretching left and right, twisted stairs, balconies, oval window openings, large feathery leaves fluttering by the ceiling, but he was being pulled farther, farther and upwards, to the tiers of the dwelling he had not yet seen. His chair, obeying someone else's will, rose, piercing all barriers, and settled in a room with a slanted, elegantly curved ceiling, pink and translucent in the sunlight. This room did not have a front wall, it opened up into the garden, and it was only surrounded by the barely-visible film of a force field.
Two people were awaiting Valdez here. Smooth elongated faces, shadows on their temples and around their eyes, lightly silky hair, bright, almost scarlet lips, fragile frames… At first glance, they seemed to Valdez to be lacking in sex and age and only seemed to differ by their clothing, their fashion style and color: one of the beings was wearing a broad mantle with pink spots on a violet background, the other wore a close-fitting green leotard and a robe, also green and embroidered with a golden pattern.
There was silence for a moment. They were examining him carefully and dispassionately; then Valdez noticed the Purple One's features contort noticeably; he put a narrow hand to his mouth and licked something off it. Ertza? Probably.
"Every race has its own little weaknesses," the Green One spoke, as if apologizing. "But we are still glad to look into your eyes, Sergey Valdez of Earth. We are both familiar with your language, and it is best for us to communicate in it, to avoid omissions and mistakes." He switched to Earth Lingua and started speaking with a barely-noticeable accent. "My name is Ghiaira of the astroid Anat. I am Zantoo's trla, and beside me is Ptayon, her tayos."
"I am also glad to meet your gazes." Valdez bowed his head slightly. "Are we communicating in real-time? Through Limbo, right?"
"Yes."
"We are not aware of such methods of communication."
"You are not alone in that." Ghiaira formed a smile. "This should not confuse you, Defender. We are communicating, and that is sufficient." Glancing at Ptayon, he switched the subject, "I hope the journey you have undertaken brought pleasure to you?"
"The views of Fayo and your astroid are excellent," Valdez said. "You wanted me to receive pleasure? Is that why you contacted me on Danwait? If so, I am grateful."
Ptayon shifted, swaying the folds of his mantle.
"Prooud like a Knii'lina," he uttered, stretching out the words. He had a strange but pleasant pronunciation; his speech sounded like music.
"Pride is forgivable if it does not harbor cruelty or malice," Ghiaira noted. "We wished for you, Sergey Valdez, to look at Fayo and the astroids surrounding it, so that you would see the unseen, that which is not accessible to even the Defenders of the Pink Zone. But it is not a reward, it is a sign of respect. Your reward is yet to come."
"That is nice to hear," Valdez muttered. He did not feel affection towards these two, same as for the other inhabitants of the astroid Anat. All of them, to a varying degree, were Zantoo's relatives, her family group, and they had condemned her to years of wandering and agonizing loneliness. Vaguely, extremely vaguely, he still felt that, for a sentient being, gifted with a mental sense, it was much more difficult to be pulled away from one's own, from one's tribe, than for any human. Humans were deaf to mental waves, to that telepathic aura that surrounded them from birth to death, but, for the Lo'ona Aeo, it was a familiar and, probably, necessary part of the environment. For it to be taken away would be a great misfortune, Valdez thought. So great that even the company of an alien with a barely-noticeable gift for psychic communication became fortunate.
Had Ptayon pick up on these thoughts? His face remained dispassionate, when he spoke.
"We wished to meet with you, Sergey Valdez of Earth, to tell you that we are pleased. You protect our offspring well. You have saved Zantoo twice, and this deserves gratitude."
"I would not have to do that, were she still living in the astroid," Valdez said. "Here, in her own home. Space journeys are not for her. You, Ptayon, said that pride was forgivable if it did not harbor cruelty or malice. But you yourself were cruel when you sent her into the Great Emptiness, abandoning your offspring to complete loneliness."
The faces of both Lo'ona Aeo turned to stone. Valdez, having gotten a closer look, was already capable of telling them apart: Ghiaira seemed more masculine, more fitting with the male pattern, while Ptayon was distinguished by a strange ambiguity of features. The baggy apparel that hid his figure left his sexual identity a mystery, and Valdez's observations were useless here. Perhaps "he" was a "she"? Or even "it", after all, the Lo'ona Aeo were not humanoids with their clear distinction between male and female.
"Abaandoning to complete looneliness," Ptayon sang in the meantime. "Thiis is a rebuuke!"
"A rebuke," Ghiaira agreed. "But you must know, Defender, that our, as you insist, cruelty does not change anything in one respect: Zantoo is still very dear to us. Despite the fact that she is a criminal."
Watching Valdez's stunned face, he continued in a calm, even tone, as if lecturing a careless student.
"A crime! We are speaking your language, Sergey Valdez of Earth, for ours lacks this term. It also lacks other concepts familiar to you: hate, murder, revenge… But there is recompensing for a wrongdoing. To be even more precise, it is not even a recompense, but sanitation: we reject the one who violated our certain norms. Not forever, naturally, but for a time, just for a time, which is dictated by the reasons of physiological properties. We–"
Having overcome his astonishment, Valdez interrupted him.
"What has she done, Ghiaira? What has she been accused of and why was she exiled? You mentioned hate, murder, revenge… Did she gut someone? Broke an unfaithful lover's neck? Or stabbed a rival?"
His companions seemed to be appalled, throwing up their hands and crossing them in the gesture of negation.
"No, no, and no! Our race is incapable of killing!"
"Everyone is capable of that," Valdez countered stubbornly. "I know one being… one almost human, who was able to resist for eight hundred years, and then…" He thought about the Chief and bit his tongue. "Never mind! We were talking about Zantoo… So what is she guilty of?"
Ghiaira raised his eyes to the pink ceiling, which was translucent like a shell of thin nacre.
"I terms you understand, this is defined as… as…"
"As a geneetic crime," Ptayon suggested. "Related to improoper seexual orientation."
Valdez understood that: Zantoo's orientation was, of course, improper; after all, she was giving her favor to a human. It was too bad she would be unable to give him anything else.
Ghiaira started explaining.
"You humanoids have only a single diploid set of sex chromosomes, and the affiliation to one or the other sex is determined for you at a very early stage, while still in your mother's womb. Our genetic makeup is more complicated: two sets of chromosomes, capable of mutual transition, which determines a greater variety of sexes. A diploid set, I will designate its chromosomes as XY and TV, is finally formed by the age of maturity, at approximately thirty, until then, our young are sexless and infertile. There are, however, ways of determining one's future preferred orientation and direct the development of a young being on a proper course. This is done with the use of special pharmaceuticals and radiation therapy, as well as… hmm…"
"The deetails are of no iinterest," Ptayon noted. "What's impoortant is that we can controol mutaations."
"And, as a result, we get females, males, and two intermediate forms," Ghiaira continued. "For example, I am male, not entirely in the same way that humanoids understand the term, but, approximately, I—"
Ptayon said something in the Lo'ona Aeo language, but it was so quick that it remained unrecognizable. Ghiaira fell silent. Valdez looked at him and then looked at Ptayon.
"You are male. And him?"
"An intermediate type. I find it difficult to translate the name."
"Half-maale," Ptayong suggested. "And the oother intermediate tyype caan be called half-feemale."
"Let's go with that. Females bear offspring, males and half-males initiate this process, while half-females are infertile, although, during their maturity period, they can experience… hmm… what do you humanoids call it…"
"An orgaasm," Ptayon interjected once again. "Sexuaal expeeriences. A stroong erotiic sensaation. Or, raather, its anaalog, accounting for our physioology."
Valdez looked at the Lo'ona Aeo in green, then at his purple partner. They didn't sound as if they were lying, but their speech had been full of omissions. They obviously did not wish to provide him the details, and he understood that: a race's most vulnerable place was its reproduction.
"I thank you for your candor." Valdez shifted, trying to get more comfortable in the narrow chair. "Does what you've said pertain to Zantoo?"
"Without a dooubt," Ptayon spoke. "Yees, withot a dooubt."
"On a genetic level, she was supposed to have become a half-female," Ghiaira explained. "When she was young, she had been given a recommendation as to the proper course of action."
Valdez remained silent, and then they became excited and started to talk, interrupting one another.
"She refuused to taake the neecessary medicaation–"
"This is not monitored by anyone. And when the truth was discovered–"
"–the proceess had already goone too faar–"
"–and became irreversible. It is a serious deviation from–"
"–oour customs and noorms. It oonly happens with half-feemales."
"It is punished by exile. For the entire reproductive period, forty years by your count."
"It is puunished to taake away what she was tryying to do–"
"It is fair. She is dear to us, but we admit–"
"–yes, we admiit–"
"–the fairness of this decision. We–"
"Stop," Valdez said, and they fell silent. "Did I understand you correctly? Zantoo was supposed to have become half-female, but she failed to perform the necessary procedures. Now she's female, and for that you have exiled her for forty years. Correct?"
"Yes," Ghiaira confirmed with a grim look.
The spots on his temples darkened. Valdez had never noticed that with Zantoo; it could have been a reaction related to age or a powerful shock. Ptayon seemed calmer.
"Now she is female," Valdez repeated slowly. "But what was the reason? Why did she get that wish? A wish so strong that she did not fear exile?"
"As I mentioned, half-females are infertile, but she wanted to carry and bear offspring," Ghiaira said. "She wanted to become a talde."
"A mother," Valdez clarified. Everything suddenly fell into place, except for one problem. He raised his eyes at Ghiaira, who spoke Earth Lingua better, and asked, "If she wanted to become a female and a mother, why not allow that? What's the crime in that?"
"He does not understaand," Ptayon sang.
"He does not," Ghiaira echoed. "We are an ancient race, Sergey Valdez of Earth, and we carefully control our evolution to avoid vanishing off the face of the universe. A half-female who becomes a female occasionally produces defective offspring. This is unacceptable. That is why Zantoo was sent into exile for her entire reproductive period. She will never meet a trla and a tayos and not become… how did you say?.. yes, a mother. Then she will return to us in Anat and live a long life, but the time will be past. After seventy, our females do not produce offspring."
"It's cruel," Valdez said ponderously. "Cruel, but you know best how to preserve your gene pool. After we had taken back the fortress beyond Trading Post 6, we found out that the Dromi had had a Lo'ona Aeo prisoner, who deactivated the station's AI. I don't know how they had captured him, or, more probably, her, but I think she was also an exile. A female who had transgressed your law."
"Yes, that happened before and happens now," Ghiaira admitted reluctantly. "Rarely, very rarely… We do not like to think about that."
"But you did tell me. You met me and told me about Zantoo."
"It is a sign of trust. You are her Defender, and we hope that you will protect and defend her for many years. Until she returns to us."
Valdez's heart went cold.
"So that's what you want… For me to serve for another three decades…" he muttered. "That's a sizable time period! I'll finish my service as an old man, without a home, without a family, without anything to call my own…"
An icy grip was squeezing his chest. If only Zantoo was human! Without hesitation, he would have stayed with her not only for thirty years but forever. If only!..
"Some of your problems can be resolved," Ghiaira said. "We know about the island in a terrestrial ocean, where your family group lives. We will send metal to Earth… the necessary amount of metal to remove all the troubles and burdens from your loved ones. You can take it yourself, for the Ahiros will travel to the Solar System on her next voyage. This will be your reward, Sergey Valdez, and we will be equally generous with your crew. Protect our descendant, and we will make it so that, occasionally, you will be able to visit your home, your trla and talde. And you will finish your service a young man. Our medicine can do many things… more than yours."
"I need to think about this," Valdez said. "I can't make this decision now."
"Think. Talk to your people." Ghiaira raised his arms, flapping the gold-embroidered mantle. "Perhaps, we are on the threshold of great changes, Sergey Valdez. Perhaps we may get used to humans, and our dealings will become closer. Neighborliness is a rare commodity in the galaxy. One we have yet to sell or buy."
The Lo'ona Aeo figures were then veiled in an iridescent glow. The shell-like house, the astroid Anat, the planet, the sun, and the universe itself dissolved in this shifting haze, and darkness fell. Then light suddenly flared, which seemed to Valdez to be far too abrupt and bright after the gentle tones of Zantoo's home. He was sitting in the cramped chair, and the curved white walls continued to surround him, like the shell of an enormous egg.
The Planner's booming voice broke the silence, "Welcome back, Senior Defender. Do you have any questions? Or wishes?"
"No wishes, but I do have a question. I just met Ghiaira and Ptayon, Zantoo's trla and tayos, but I did not see her mother, talde Baani…"
"Briani, Defender."
"Briani, yes. Did she not wish to speak with me?"
"It is more likely that she was unable to. Encountering a member of another race is a difficult ordeal for the Masters. Especially their females. They are too emotional and sensitive."
"Just like ours," Valdez said. "Maybe women of different peoples are more alike than men."
"Why, Defender?"
"They all want kids."
Inga's hand was in his, a gentle wind was ruffling her hair, and a thin strand occasionally touched Valdez's cheek. The Castle towered over them like a gigantic organ, strange melodies were being born in the slits of the towers, and the sound flowered over the square, the sleeping Danwait, the river, and the hilly plain. The light of the already-risen moons was falling on the city roofs and the silver ribbon of the road; from up here, it seemed to be just another river stream, going straight into the Milky Way, towards the great endless starry path. The night was warm and enchanting, full of celestial splendor, quiet music, and the fresh scents of greenery. Then again, all nights on Danwait were like that.
They were holding hands and standing at the foot of the Castle. A web of patterns was glowing from the Devil's Circle in the twilight, and Valdez imagined that specters of dancing figures were sliding under him. They must have been spinning around here long ago, before the Pyramids had even been built on Earth, before the first field had been sown, when hunting tribes tracked mammoths and bulls, killed them, and drew their magical paintings on mountains. The millennia since then would have been enough for an ancient civilization to fade and a new one to flare up in its place. But, fortunately, they had not missed each other in time, they were alive and beautiful, like Inga and Zantoo, like a human girl and a stubborn little Lo'ona Aeo female. Which of them did he love more? With whom was he destined to stay? One could give him so much, while the other could give almost nothing… Nothing but the touch of her hands and lips and mental flights through the glowing abyss.
"I visited the Llyano," Inga said, lifting her face to a crown-like constellation. "There, Sergey… We set down on the planet with no open waters, no seas, no rivers, not even a tiny puddle. And almost no forests, only sand, and barren mountains… Very similar to T'har, but our deserts are made of rocks not sand. It's difficult to breathe on the Llyano world; the air is dry, and there's not enough oxygen. Only I was able to breathe without a mask."
Valdez bent down and touched his lips to the barely-visible scar over her left breast.
"You're a T'haran," he said, feeling her hand touch his hair. This gesture was so natural and gentle, as if they hadn't met mere months before but had lived together for many years.
He looked into the girl's eyes. They sparkled and shone in the light of Danwait's moons, and he could read in them what neither the twilight nor the shadows cast by the Castle could hide: he's mine! Mine, mine, mine!
Am I yours?.. Valdez thought. Other eyes appeared before him, just a shining and beautiful, full of love. You are her Defender, he heard Ghiaira's soft voice. We hope that you will protect and defend her for many years… Too many, he thought. Zantoo had been punished by depriving her of the opportunity to have children, and that had, in some inexplicable way, touched him, Valdez, and the girl standing next to him. She would not have a child either, if he remained on the Ahiros… My child, Valdez corrected himself mentally. Time was a mysterious category, and, among its mysteries, was one in particular: it flowed differently for women and men. For a man, thirty years was just a part of his lifespan, but, for a woman, it was her entire life, for her measure was not wealth, not fame, not battles, and not great deeds, but her children and her family.
"What did you bring to the Llyano?" Valdez asked. "Fabrics, decorations, Tintakh honey, wine, or fruit?"
Inga lauched.
"They don't need clothes, they don't drink wine and don't eat fruit. They're furry like bears, and their hide protects them from the heat and the cold. You've never seen a Llyano, have you? I'll show you our recordings back on the base. We were careful in making them, since the Llyano…"
She continued to talk, but Valdez did not delve into the meaning, only hearing the sound of her voice. He had seen the Llyano, not in the flesh, of course, but in training videos at the Sydney Academy. He had not been into xenology, but he had taken a course that described all of humanity's enemies and rivals: the Bino Faata and the Haptors, the Dromi and the Kni'lina, the Shada, the Kytes, the Eichs, the Llyano. He knew far more about these furry predatory creatures than Inga had assumed, as much a commander in Earth's fleet ought to know. No human warship had ever encountered a Llyano in battle, but their time would come, after the Dromi, the Haptors, and the Kni'lina. He again remembered Ghiaira's words and nodded in agreement. Neighborliness was indeed a rare commodity in the galaxy… Very rare!
Kayar, the largest of Danwait's moons, rose to its zenith. Inga fell silent. The golden light was streaming from the sky, the silver Castle was glowing, as if trying to eclipse the moon hanging over it, its small towers looking like a squadron of frigates in a tight formation around a powerful cruiser. It seemed as if this armada would rush upwards, punch through the atmosphere and zoom away into the dark void among the stars, just in time to fight in a battle, which would decide the fates of Danwait or, perhaps, the entire galaxy.
A sigh of delight escaped Inga's lips, "Look, Sergey! They're about to take off!"
But the Castle towers were firmly standing on the mountain. It was rising them into the sky like a launch platform, allowing people to admire their intricate outlines.
"I know how they made this," Valdez spoke. "It was made, not built; without a single weld seam, without rivets or anchoring structures. This, my T'haran, is the work of jewelers, not builders. They made a tiny Castle, polished and decorated it, and then…"
Inga's eyes opened wide.
"And then?.."
"They put it under a special emitter. And the Castle started to grow and grow, until it became huge and spacious, as we see it now." He stuck his hand in a pocket, felt for the coin with a unicorn, but did not pull it out. "The Lo'ona Aeo have the technology to do it. They can shrink a mountain and put it on a shelf as a decoration, or they can take a crystal glass and turn it into a hundred-meter-tall tower."
"I've never seen anything like that!"
"You will, my T'haran. You've only been in the Convoy for a short while."
Hand-in-hand, enchanted by the moonlight, they were standing under the silver towers and listening, as the wind sang above them. Something invisible, inaudible, and barely perceptible suddenly touched Valdez's consciousness. Was it a pulse from the cosmic darkness, or a mental wave flowing from Inga to him, full of warmth and tenderness? He thought that some sort of doors were ready to open before him, but he alone would not enter them; those were the gates for two, a passage into the glowing abyss, where Zantoo was taking him. Her love, her desire, her psychic force… He was the guide now, the one who connected thought and feeling and opened the door… where?.. To that dreamy land, where he had flown with the petite Lo'ona Aeo? Would he be able to take Inga there?
Valdez embraced her, held her tightly, and closed his eyes. She cried out in surprise, and, a moment later, a glowing space opened before them.
